


disappearing feelings

by soapyconnor



Category: The Predator (2018)
Genre: Intersex Character, Lobotomy, M/M, mention of male pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-01
Updated: 2018-11-01
Packaged: 2019-08-14 07:26:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16488278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soapyconnor/pseuds/soapyconnor
Summary: mckenna never leaves the group two bus.





	disappearing feelings

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on tumblr @rboydholbrook

            Nebraska stared up at the ceiling, listening to McKenna’s shallow breathing across the room. Nebraska ran his hands along his stomach, before he rolled over, and stared at McKenna’s prone form, white gauze wrapped around his head, tufts of blond hair sticking out.

            McKenna was sprawled out much like a cat, laying on his side with his arms sprawled out in front of him, and his jaw open. He looked stressed, and his eyes were sunken in, black circles around his eyes. Nebraska didn’t know him that well, but the man hadn’t been quite the same since the surgery. McKenna showed some sort of the interest in the world behind him before, but now . . . nothing.

            McKenna stirred, and his eyes softly opened, and he stared at Nebraska. Nebraska sat up a bit, resting his arm against the pillow. “You okay, McKenna?”

            McKenna closed his eyes and he nodded. Nebraska swallowed, and he glanced towards the camera in the corner of the room. The light was off, and so Nebraska slowly lowered himself to the floor, keeping an eye on the camera as he crawled over to him, sitting on the floor. McKenna opened his eyes once more. “What’d they do to ya, bud?” Nebraska murmured, reaching out and gently touching the gauze.

            McKenna raised a hand, and pressed his finger tip between his eye and eyebrow, before making a downward jerking motion. Nebraska chewed on his lip, and stroked McKenna’s cheek. “I’m sorry, bud,” he murmured. McKenna stared at him, and his hand shook wildly as he reached out and touched the scar tissue along Nebraska’s skull, cooing softly. Nebraska wondered if McKenna would ever be okay again. “I’m fine. I—”

            “ _Williams_ ,” a voice came over the intercom, “ _Back to bed_.”

            “Just a fuckin’ moment—”

            “ _Now, Williams_.”

            Nebraska angrily flipped off the camera, before he patted McKenna’s cheek. “It’ll be okay,” he murmured, before he turned and crawled to the bed.

            He laid there, staring at the wall with his back to McKenna, listening to the man murmur and seemingly babble to himself.

 

 

            Nebraska woke up the next morning and stretched, moaning painfully. He flipped onto his side, staring at McKenna, who was sitting up and picking at the gauze. The light on the camera was off, but the door was open. Nebraska grunted, wondering when they would be dragged away to therapy. He turned back to McKenna, when he heard the gentle slapping of a palm against his cheek. McKenna’s eyes were vacant as they stared at the wall, and Nebraska got up, stumbling to McKenna’s bed and he flopped down.

            He gently tugged McKenna back, and McKenna leaned his head against his chest. McKenna stuck his fingers in his mouth, tearing at the skin and Nebraska reached down, gently prying them out. He wondered, vaguely, if McKenna would recover. If he would ever be normal once more, or if this is was just . . . how he was, now.

            McKenna covered them with a blanket, closing his eyes. Some nurses walked past, but didn’t blink an eye. Baxley and Coyle a couple rooms down often sought comfort from one another. Anything that kept them out of the nurses’ hair was better than nothing.

            Nebraska began to fall asleep, but jerked awake when he felt movement beneath the blanket, and a whimper escape McKenna’s throat.

            Drowsily, Nebraska looked down their bodies, and saw oh-so-familiar movement beneath the blanket. “McKenna,” he murmured, “Stop that.” McKenna’s hard froze, and he turned his head to look up at him.

            McKenna licked his lips then closed his eyes and let out a moan. Nebraska reached down and swatted his hand away, unable to hide the fact he was incredibly aroused. He had no idea if McKenna was right in the head anymore, he didn’t want to take advantage of him.

            “Neebbrrrassskaa—” McKenna moaned, and Nebraska froze. This was the first word he heard him say in _days_ , even before the surgery . . . “Wan—”

            “No,” Nebraska said, the words catching in his throat. He shook his head, and ran a hand over his scalp. “Just, no.”

            McKenna went to open his mouth once more, but he froze when a nurse appeared in the doorway. She stepped forward, injecting them both with medicine before she gestured for them both to get up. Nebraska eagerly got up, and McKenna slowly followed, taking Nebraska’s hand.

            Nebraska stared at their interlocked fingers for a moment, before he held in a sigh and kept on walking. They entered the group therapy room, and took their respective seats. Nettles was chewing on his fingers, and Coyle was rambling, laughing in a high-pitched tone. McKenna sat, staring at the wall and licking his lips, murmuring to himself quietly. When it came his turn to speak, McKenna stared at the therapist, before the therapist just snorted and moved on.

            Nebraska didn’t want to go back to the room once it was over. But, McKenna was starting to act weird again, and Nebraska wasn’t going to allow him to get in trouble. He got up, and dragged McKenna back to the room. He turned, and found McKenna’s hand down his own pants.

            “McKenna—”

            “Nebraska,” McKenna interrupted, staring at him with clear blue eyes for once. Nebraska hated the clarity that was in them. It wasn’t just a _moment_ , it was McKenna. Nebraska just wanted to pretend that none of this was happening.

            “Don’t do this,” he said instead, gently taking McKenna’s hand and pulled it out. “You’re going to get in trouble and then they’ll—”

            “Take out more of my brain?” He let out a soft snort. “Let them. Let them take out more of my brain until I’m dead.” McKenna leaned forward, their lips brushing together. “Come on, Nebraska.”

            “I—” Nebraska stared at him, his mouth going completely dry. “I . . . No. McKenna, there’s no privacy here. I don’t want either of us too—”

            “Coyle and Baxley have sex all the time,” McKenna replied with a roll of his eyes. Nebraska really wished the man had gone back to not speaking. “Always. I can hear them a lot. I think that’s what Coyle wanted to go and do after the therapy group.” McKenna tilted his had at Nebraska. “Why won’t you accept it?”

            Nebraska opened his mouth, before it slowly closed once more.

            “Is it because they lobotomized me?” he asked with a snort. “Do you think I’m what, stupid now?”

            “Most people—”

            “It’s 2018. Of course, these bastards are going to have this shit perfected. I just don’t _feel_ anything anymore, Nebraska. I just don’t _care_.” McKenna rolled his eyes and stepped closer, pushing Nebraska against the bed. “But, I want sex. That makes me feel something. At least a little bit.”

            “You should be more worried about going home to your wife and son—”

            “They’re better off without me,” McKenna said with a snort. “My ex-wife blamed me for Rory’s autism, but we fucking know that there is no one or anything to blame for it.” He raised his eyes to meet Nebraska’s. “Come on. It’s not like you’re exactly _eager_ to leave.”

            “Got no one to come home too.”

            “So does everyone else. Might as well _find_ someone to want to be alive for, even if you can’t fuckin’ feel anything,” McKenna laughed.

            Nebraska swallowed. McKenna leveled him with an even gaze. “Just think about it, Nebraska.”

 

 

            Nebraska was given time to think about it. McKenna, thankfully, no longer touched himself in front of Nebraska. McKenna did get in an awful lot of trouble though, apparently spitting his medicine out and being generally uncooperative. He heard them murmuring about how the lobotomy was supposed to change that, and perhaps they didn’t cut deep enough.

            Nebraska didn’t see McKenna for at least another two weeks.

 

           

            Nebraska returned to his quarters to see McKenna laying on the bed. His entire head was shaved and covered in surgical scars and stitches, and he looked incredibly drowsy. Nebraska blinked rapidly, stunned by the sight.

            “What did they do to you?” He murmured, hesitantly stepping forward until his trousers brushed the bed. McKenna stretched his arms out, grabbing him by the front of his jacket and dragging him down to the bed, moaning as he felt the heavy weight on top of him. McKenna’s body began to shake, and he could hear the man’s breath catching in his throat. Nebraska wrapped his arms around him, and slowly shushed him, running a hand through his hair, allowing him to get out whatever negative emotions he was feeling.

 

 

            “They had me sign the National Anthem until I couldn’t remember it anymore,” McKenna murmured, his cheek pressed against Nebraska’s chest. It had nearly been a month since McKenna’s second surgery, and the man didn’t speak all the much. Most of the time, he forgot how too.

            “Like they did with Rosemary Kennedy.”

            McKenna shook his head no. “With Rosemary, they stopped when she became incoherent. For me, they didn’t stop until I couldn’t speak anymore.”

            Nebraska ran a hand through the tuft of hair on McKenna’s head.

 

 

            It was hard to reject McKenna when he finally came back.

            Nebraska stared up at him, McKenna placed on his lap and one hand in his trousers. It looked like he was fingering himself, but it was far too up front . . . Drowsily, Nebraska reached up and ran a hand through McKenna’s hair. “Is this what you want?” he murmured. McKenna let out a shudder, and nodded.

            Both had been on good behavior for a month, so they were allowed one week without the camera on, and their door closed. Nebraska wondered if this was the only reason why he was allowing this . . .

            Well, McKenna was attractive . . .

            McKenna nodded. “I wanna be close t’ someone again. Before I die,” he murmured. He struggled to get his trousers off, and once he did, Nebraska realized why he was jerking himself off so up front and why his ex-wife would have blamed him for Rory’s mental illness.

            McKenna had a cock. It was pretty long, almost four inches in length, but then he pulled the cock to the side and revealed a gaping pussy, straining to be fucked.

            “Christ,” Nebraska murmured, “You’re beautiful.”

            “Whatever.”

            “Are you the one who gave birth to Rory?”

            McKenna nodded.

            Nebraska bit his lip. “I . . . I don’t want you to get pregnant.”

            McKenna rolled his eyes. “I’ve been through so much shit I probably can’t anymore. Even if I did, the doctors would force an abortion on me. Who’d let two crazies become parents?” he said, pulling Nebraska’s pants down fair enough for his cock to pop out. McKenna positioned his cock, his own cock slowly growing hard and raising up against his stomach. He looked up at Nebraska, and licked his lips, before he slowly sat down on his cock. Nebraska threw his head back and groaned, whimpering as he felt the man’s pussy clench around his cock.

            “You’re so good—” Nebraska began, but was cut off by McKenna kissing him and nuzzling against his face, before saying, “I know.” Nebraska stared up at him, watching McKenna attempt to ride him. The man’s legs were far too weak to support his weight, and his fine motor skills had gone to absolute shit.

            Nebraska grabbed him gently by the hips, and rolled him onto his back, causing McKenna to moan.

            “I want to do it,” McKenna said with a soft sigh. “I want to be the one to give you the pleasure.”

            “I appreciate that, darlin’, but you’re gonna hurt yourself,” Nebraska said, stroking the man’s cheek gently. “And, not to mention, my boner was starting to go away.” He said it in a teasing tone, and he knew it was a mistake when he saw McKenna barring his teeth and digging his nails into his skin. “Relax. It was a joke.”

            “I don’t like jokes. I don’t get them anymore.”

            “Sorry,” Nebraska said, stroking his cheek. “I’ll try not to make any jokes anymore, okay?” he murmured. Nebraska stared down at him, and relaxed when McKenna nodded.

            Slowly, Nebraska began to fuck into him, moaning as the slick feeling enveloping his cock. It had been years since he had sex with anyone, and now that he was getting it . . . He wished he and McKenna could have had more moments before. That it would be possible for the two of them to have a relationship before McKenna had gotten lobotomized. He wondered if they would have fallen in love . . .

            Nebraska continued to gently fuck into McKenna, being extremely careful of his head and listening to what the sounds were telling him. It wasn’t long before McKenna came, shuddering violently. Nebraska forced himself to follow suit, not wanting to drag it out. Nebraska collapsed gently on McKenna, gently stroking a hand across his chest.

            “Thank you,” McKenna murmured.

            Nebraska closed his eyes. “Yeah.”


End file.
